


Where've You Been?

by mynameisnoneya



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childhood Friends, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Male-Female Friendship, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 20:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9256292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameisnoneya/pseuds/mynameisnoneya
Summary: Sandor Clegane and Sansa Stark are old childhood friends.  Throughout the years, their relationship ebbs and flows, neither one ever giving up on the other.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story gives six brief glimpses into the relationship between Sandor and Sansa, two old friends who have loved each other silently for years. 
> 
> Please note that I made sure to tag any and all characters that appear in this work, whether they have a speaking role or not. 
> 
> General disclaimer: GoT characters and quotes belong to GRMM - I own nor claim nothing!
> 
> If you enjoyed this work, please let me know by leaving comments and kudos!

“Where’ve you been hiding all of this time, little bird?” Sandor rasped, his massive hands poised on his hips as he glared down at the tiny, wisp of a girl standing before him.  Her normally untamable, flaming red curls were pulled into a messy low pony tail, her pale blue eyes cast downward, her normally milky white cheeks flushed a deep crimson from the embarrassment at having been caught spying at her older next door neighbor while he practiced his medieval swordsmanship out in his backyard with his buddy from high school, Bronn.

“I…uh…I was watching you through the hole in the fence,” Sansa muttered, toeing the dirt with her pink and purple sneakers, pointing across her undeveloped tween chest at the wooden fence that separated their family abodes.  She raised her head ever so slightly, peeking up at the huge young man standing in front her through her long lashes, noticing the way his silver-gray eyes didn’t look so mad after all.

“Watching me, eh?” Sandor chuckled, shooting a glance at Bronn, who was laughing as well.  “And did you like what you saw?” he added, pushing his sweaty shoulder-length black hair out of his eyes.

“Yeah!  I mean, you’re really good at all of that,” she smiled, waving her arms in the air as if she were one of the fiercest warriors known to mankind, parrying and thrusting with all her might, pretending to stab Sandor right in his heart with her imaginary blade, “I wish I could be as brave and strong as you.”

Sandor’s grin turned into a downright smile, “Alright, Sansa, you win as always.  If it’s alright with your mum and dad, you can hang out here with me.  Here,” he said, shoving a wooden training sword into her small, dainty hand, “I’ll promise to go easy on you, at least until you get used to handling it, that is.”

Sansa’s entire lightly freckled face lit up with sheer excitement, “Really?  You’d let me stay over here with you?”

“Yes, little bird, I would,” Sandor replied with a small grin as he reached down to ruff her curls.

 

_______________________________

 

“Sandor!  Where’ve you been?” Sansa shrieked, running full-steam at the enormous man standing in the shadows of the huge crowd milling about the arena.  Her mortarboard flew off her head as she jumped into his open arms, grabbing tightly around his large neck, squeezing as hard as she could possibly muster.

“I was here the whole time,” he laughed, embracing his former neighbor and recent college graduate, “Did you think that I’d dare miss seeing you get that diploma?”

“Oh, my God, it’s been _forever_ since I’ve actually laid eyes on you!” Sansa exclaimed as he lowered her to her feet.  Her cheeks were flushed from the excitement of the day, first walking down the aisle at Vale University as one of the valedictorians of her graduating class and then seeing her childhood friend, live and in person.

“Yeah, I know,” Sandor replied, “I’m lucky my sergeant vouched for me. Otherwise, I may not have been granted enough leave to get back in time.”

“I’ve missed you,” she said, almost inaudibly, looking down at her dress shoes before glancing back up to stare into his steely eyes.  When Sansa gingerly reached out to hold his hand, he allowed her to take it, his eyes darting down to her tentative grasp.  She stepped back, admiring Sandor in his full dress uniform.  With his impressive height, his much-shorter hair, and his lack of facial hair that he had sported before he joined the Marines, Sandor was just as striking even when all prim and proper, sporting his blue jacket with the shiny, gold buttons and crisp white hat.

“Me too, little bird,” Sandor replied as he let her lead him onward, pushing their way through the throng of graduates and their families toward the sundry members of the Stark clan, “Your letters and photos are what’s kept me sane all of these years.  Especially during the rougher missions.”

“Please come to lunch with us, would you?” Sansa grinned, “Could you?  Mom and Daddy would love to see you again, and I’m sure the rest of the family has missed you, too.”

Sandor groaned at the thought of seeing her pain in the ass little sister again, “Is Arya here?

Her head thrown back, Sansa cackled loudly at his question, “Yes, silly, of course she’s here.  But I promise that I won’t let her try to stab you with a fork or knife while we’re eating.”

“Then yes, little bird, I would,” Sandor replied, smiling down into her pretty face.

 

_______________________________

 

“Where’ve you been, little bird?” Sandor winced, trying to smile at her even though the pain seared his face with each and every muscle movement.

“Oh, Sandor,” Sansa tried to speak, her voice cracking at the sight of her massive friend lying flat on his back in the military hospital bed, yards of bandages wrapped around one side of his handsome face, hiding the destruction that lay beneath, “I’m so sorry…I wish I could’ve gotten here sooner…”

“I know,” he replied, closing his eyes tightly, restraining his tears after witnessing the sight of her breaking down in front of him, “Please…please don’t cry.”

“The nurse told me that you’ll be here for a while,” she sniffed, trying to regain her composure, wiping her nose on a tissue that she had pulled out of her designer-label purse, “I’ll come see you as often as I can, I promise.”

“I know you will,” Sandor rasped, the dryness in his throat making it difficult to speak, the multiple injections of pain killers making his brain foggy and his eyes heavy, “Don’t worry.  I’ll be alright.”

“Shh,” Sansa whispered, reaching out to hold his giant paw, lightly stroking his forearm as she knelt down to place a gentle kiss on top of his bandaged cheek, “No need to talk right now.  I’m staying at a hotel not too far from here.  I took a week off.  No trials coming up this month, so I’m using up some vacation time.  Get some rest.”

“OK,” he said as his eyes drooped, feeling the pull of sleep drawing him downward, “Thank you.”

“For what?  For taking two weeks to get here?” Sansa spoke, internally chastising herself, her voice once again trembling as she studied the broken man before her, suffering from third degree burns over half his face as well as multiple fractures and contusions received from a car bomb that had taken the lives of over half his platoon.

“For coming to see me,” Sandor muttered, his voice heavy and lethargic.

“Any time,” she replied, the tears once again falling, lowering herself into the lone chair in his hospital room, “Would you like it if I stayed a while?” Sansa asked, holding his hand as tightly as she thought she could without hurting him.

“Yes, little bird,” Sandor managed to say before drifting asleep, “I would.”

 

_______________________________

 

“Where’ve you been all of this time?” Sansa smiled deviously, her hands poised on her hips as she caught Sandor watching her from his seat in the back of the courtroom.

“Just sitting here watching you wear out that sorry fucker who had to go up against you, little bird,” he laughed, rising from his seat to accept her embrace.

“God, I’ve missed you,” she whispered in his good ear, stepping back to look at her friend, the man she hadn’t seen in almost three years, “Please tell me you’re here to stay for a while.”

Sandor’s one eyebrow cocked in question, “Well, I did plan to stay around awhile, yes.”

“You’re looking good, Clegane,” Sansa teased as she looked him up and down from head to toe, drinking in the sight of his tight black jeans, blue flannel shirt and motorcycle boots, “And I like that you’ve grown your hair out again.”  Sansa reached out to touch the ends of his long, wavy black hair, watching his face light up as he looked down into her pale eyes.  “You look just like you did when you were in high school.”

Sandor huffed in amusement at her assessment, “Except for this,” he replied, pointing to his scarred face.

“Well, I think they make you look tough,” she retorted as she took him by the hand, leading him out of the court room and past the security check point, “And, for the record, you’re just as handsome as you always were.”

“You thought I was handsome?” he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You _still_ are handsome,” Sansa corrected, squeezing his hand, “And you’re coming to lunch with me.  My treat.  I can’t wait to hear all about your adventures while sailing the open seas.”

Sandor loved how she always could make him laugh, even when he endured those grueling months of physical therapy.  She always made him feel accepted, even when the rest of the world wanted to look away. “If you want me to bore you to death, then sure, I’ll tell you all about it.”

“And your time at the monastery, too,” she chirped, “I’m dying to know if you found yourself,” she chided, elbowing him in the ribs, trying to make him smile as much as possible.

“Didn’t know I was lost,” Sandor shot back.

“No letters, emails, or texts for almost a year?” she replied, shooting him an icy glare, “I’d say you were.”  Sansa followed her hard stare with a huge smile, once again squeezing his hand that she had not let go of since they had left the courtroom and started walking the two blocks it took to get to her law firm.  "Now, let’s swing by my office so I can grab my purse, and we’ll get some lunch.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” he grinned.

“So, how does Hotpie’s sound?  I know you haven’t been there in years.  Would you want to grab lunch there?” she asked as they walked down the sidewalk full of bustling foot traffic.

“I absolutely would, little bird,” Sandor replied with a wink.

_______________________________

 

“Where’ve you been hiding _that_ bruise?” Sandor snarled, noticing the purple fingerprints that wrapped around her tiny pale wrist as he placed a small bag of frozen mixed vegetables on her busted lip, “And why won’t you let me kill that little shite?”

“Please, Sandor, don’t…” Sansa sniffed, the throbbing pain of her swollen eye making her see almost see double, “I don’t want you to get in trouble with –“

“Fuck the police!” Sandor shouted, “Fuck my pension!  Fuck your law firm!”  He stood abruptly, now pacing the length of his small living room, running his hand through his shoulder-length hair, “I don’t give a damn about any of that!”  Realizing that he had made her flinch with his outburst, he lowered his voice, taking a deep breath, speaking softly as he tried to calm down, “Joffrey deserves to go to jail for what he’s done.  This isn’t the first time he’s done this to you either, is it?  I don’t care what you’ve told me.  I know it.”

Sansa’s eyes lowered to her lap, the shame and disgrace washing over her delicate features, “You’re right.  He’s…he’s hurt me...”  Her words began to trickle away as her tears began to flow freely.

“Shh, there, there now, don’t cry, little bird,” Sandor said as the lump forming in his throat almost choked him while he witnessed her falling apart, “We’ll sort this all out tomorrow.  But tonight, you’re not going back to your apartment.  He might show up.”

“But he knows I’ll run here,” Sansa sniffed, trying to force herself to contain her emotions.  She scooted over on the couch, allowing Sandor to sit beside her and take her into his wide embrace, “I mean, he’s so incredibly jealous over our friendship…he even told me that he thinks you’re in love with me.”

Sandor closed his eyes, willing himself to breathe, lowering his scarred cheek to rest on top of her copper tresses, “Does he, now?”

“Yes,” she replied, almost inaudibly.

The two long-time friends sat in silence as Sandor stroked her long, smooth hair, wishing to all of the gods that he could get a hold of that little fucker right now and pound him and his cunt mouth into oblivion.  What he wouldn’t give to show up unannounced on that twat’s doorstep and give him a taste of a what a real beating felt like.

“Sandor?” Sansa whispered, “Can I stay here with you tonight?”  She gripped his forearm tighter as she asked the question, trying desperately not to sob again.

“Yes, little bird, you can.  I’ll take the couch.  You can have my room.  I’ll find something for you to wear,” he replied, placing a gentle kiss on top of her head, “And tomorrow morning, I’m taking you to the station.  I’ll call my foreman in a bit and see if I can have some time off to help you sort through all of this.”

“OK,” she said, dropping the bag of vegetables on the coffee table and snuggling closer to his warmth, “Thank you.”

“For what?” Sandor huffed, “For letting that sorry fucker put his hands on you?”

“For standing by me,” she replied, turning her head slightly so she could look up into his face, her eyes growing heavy from the exhaustion of the whole ordeal.

“Go on.  Go to sleep,” Sandor sighed, “He won’t hurt you ever again.”

“I know,” she said, a tiny smile creeping across her lips, “But I’m too wired to sleep.  Would you play something for me?” she asked, pointing to his acoustic guitar propped up in its stand across the room, “It might help me relax.”

“Of course, I would, little bird,” he answered, gently lowering her to a reclined position on his couch before he walked over to his guitar.

_______________________________

 

“Now just where’ve you been for the last two hours, Mr. Clegane?” Sansa cooed, raising her head from her crossword puzzle to look up at Sandor as he walked in the front door with at least a dozen shopping bags in his large hands.

“Well, Mrs. Clegane, it would appear that I went shopping,” he retorted, sitting the bags down on their kitchen counter, “Your keen court room observation skills are starting to wane, I’m afraid, little bird.”

“Is that so?” she giggled, attempting to push herself off the couch as gracefully as possible, her enormous belly getting in her way, “I’ve been on bedrest three weeks, and you already suspect that I’m losing my touch?”

Sandor’s silver eyes narrowed, watching her waddle toward him, “Get your ass back on the couch.  The doctor said you’re supposed to –“

“Stuff it, would you?” she huffed, grabbing one of the bags to peer inside of it, “I’m going stir crazy in this house.  ‘Sit down.’  ‘Put your feet up.’  Seriously, I’ve had enough rest to last me a lifetime,” Sansa added, smiling widely as she pulled out a miniature, black plush dog that rattled.

“You’ll need as much rest as you can get when the wee one arrives,” he beamed proudly, leaning down on the counter on his elbows, studying her as she examined the remainder of the contents in that particular shopping bag.

“Goodness, did you buy the whole store?” Sansa laughed, continuing to pull out toy after toy after bib after onesie.

“Not quite,” Sandor smirked.

“By the way,” she added, “Bronn called while you were out.  The SCA convention is in two weeks.  He wanted to know if you were planning to go with him again this year.”

Sandor shook his head as he laughed, “No, I’m not leaving you here by yourself for a second.  The minute I’m out that door, you’ll be trying to paint the damn nursery all by yourself.”

“Well, you can go if you want to.  I’ll be just fine,” Sansa said after sticking her tongue out at him.

As Sandor stood, turning to open the refrigerator door, she cleared her throat before asking him the question that had been eating at her for a month now.

“Sandor?” she asked, worrying her bottom lip.

“Yeah?” he replied as his head whipped around toward her, his hand still poised on the door handle.

“I’ve been thinking,” Sansa continued, unconsciously stroking her stomach, “If you’re OK with it, I’d like to call the baby ‘Eddard’ after Daddy.  We can use it as a middle name if you’d prefer.”  She nervously smiled at him, unsure of what his reaction to her request might be.

The look of sheer merriment that spread across Sandor’s face took her breath away.  “Sure.”  He could tell that his quick response had shocked her.  “Your dad was a good man, love.  It would be right to honor his memory like that.”

“Really?” she asked, her voice cracking at the thought that her father wouldn’t be here to see his grandson, “You would be OK with that?”

Sandor hurriedly walked around the bar separating their kitchen from their great room, taking her into his long arms, staring down yet once again in disbelief that this lovely creature was his, “I would, little bird.  I’d love nothing more.”

**Author's Note:**

> In case you don't know what the SCA is, it's The Society for Creative Anachronism. Google it if you've never heard of it!
> 
> And I'm dying to know...did you make it without needing tissue? (Wink).


End file.
